Mmm
by jennii.b
Summary: Oneshot: A phone call from home and a child with an abused past will rock Dirk Pitt's world and steal Al's heart.


"Dirk, you have to come home...something's happened." His mother's words struck fear into his heart. His first thoughts were of his father, a robust man representing California in the Senate. He wasn't old enough to have health problems, but fate could be cruel.

"I'm coming. I'm on the next flight." There was panic in his voice.

Mrs. Pitt's voice was still full of emotion when she spoke. "Everything's going to be all right, son, but this is an emergency and we need you here."

"Dad?"

"Fit to be tied, but fit. Just...hurry."

Now he was mystified. Relief made room for curiosity. "What's happened?" Still his voice was firm, demanding knowledge to belay worry.

"Please, let me tell you when you get here."

"Okay," he sighed, "I'm on my way."

That had been weeks ago. Weeks ago, when his bachelorhood had been unchallenged, his life free, his sleep easy, and his worries few. Now he looked down again at the speedometer. He would get ticketed for certain. But he couldn't stop yet. His daughter needed him.

He arrived at the preschool and burst in the front door, utter panic on his face. Things had gone so smoothly these two weeks that they'd been "home" in D.C.

"I'm so sorry we had to call you-" the director tried to tell him as he pushed open the swinging door that led to the cloak room and then beyond to the classroom. It was empty and he turned around.

"Where is she?"

"She's back here with the others," the woman waved him ahead of her to the playroom. Children were chattering softly and many were gathered around a table covered with some sort of plastic building blocks. His was in the corner, curled into herself with her hands over her lower face. Even across the room he knew that she would have made no sound as the tears streamed down her cheeks. He stepped quickly to her. And the angel lifted her arms to him as soon as she saw him. He scooped her up and sat with her in the rocking chair nearby.

He murmured softly to her as he held her tightly, murmured against hair that was as dark as his and curled at the ends. Murmured as he rocked them both for comfort. "Were you worried? I told you I was coming back for you. I'll always come back for you. Always. And I'll never leave you alone."

The director was chattering at him. "She just didn't stop crying. She went wherever we asked her to, didn't pitch a fit or anything. She just cried and cried. She didn't eat anything at snack and then, after, when they had free play-"

"It's okay. I told you it was okay. I told you to call me."

"Usually they adjust so quickly...get involved. I know this is a special case-"

He whispered into the girl's ear. "You hear that? You're a special case. Because you're mine and I love you. Everybody knows it."

She snuggled her head against his chest, hiding her face. He felt it when the tears stopped. He felt it when her shoulders stopped shuddering. He felt it when she finally let her body relax into sleep. His eyes had drifted closed. When he opened them the director was still standing there. He wasn't sure when she'd stopped talking at him.

"How can people hurt them?" he sighed.

She shook her head.

He stood, shifting the tiny chubby body to his side and supporting her with one arm.

He reached for the director's hand with the other. "I thank you for your time and apologize for your trouble. If you'll just let me get her coat and her fuzzy I'll get out of your way."

"Are you leaving?" she asked. He nodded. She shook her head. "That's not how she'll learn to adjust."

He smiled and tears were in his eyes. "I don't care. I'm not putting her down and I'm not leaving her again. We'll try again sometime." He led the way back to the office, the sleeping child still slung over his shoulder. He reached behind him, under his coat, for his wallet. "How much do I owe you?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Why don't you try again tomorrow? Make sure she has a good night's rest and talk to her, remind her that you're coming back." He was shaking his head the whole time. "The longer you prolong the cycle the longer it will last and the harder it will be to stop."

"Simple solution to that," he told her, pulling out a week's worth of daycare fees.

"Put your money away. If you can wait I'll gather her things."

"Just her coat and fuz. Keep the other supplies and things for the other children."

She was still shaking her head as she walked through the swinging door. He really didn't give a damn. He had what he wanted.

That afternoon wasn't the first time he'd taken his child to the NUMA offices. He'd taken a leave of absence after arriving in California to find this new challenge waiting. Still, upon his return his friend Al and others had sucked him back into the world of science and discovery. He'd made several trips with her to the office, in part just to show her off, but those had been timed for evening when most would already have left for the day. Today was his first day "back at work." Which had lasted a good three hours. But he'd make it up to them.

Meghan had been a dream when she'd come in with him before. She'd sat on his lap without moving or causing problems while he worked, she'd played with highlighters and protractors and things that littered the office where he worked as well as those of Rudi Gunn and Hiram Yokum. And she'd been bounced and dandled by Al, who might be her favorite person after Dirk and Grandma. And she'd been perfectly fine in the company of Hiram and Rudi while he'd slipped upstairs with Al to speak with the Admiral. That memory gave him pause about the daycare thing. They'd been absolutely supportive when he'd dropped everything and raced out the door upon being told that she was still crying. Quack childcare people. Just as bad as the shrinks. He would figure it out by himself or die trying. He wasn't tormenting this child anymore, though. Today Al was lurking outside the atrium, a thick cigar clamped between his teeth. He was walking Pitt's way as soon as he saw the other man.

"I didn't know if you were coming back here," the short Italian told him gruffly. He pushed back a black curl from the sweaty little face and peeked at the child.

Dirk laughed at his partner and friend. "You were just going to hang out here all day just in case? What if I'd called?"

"My phone's transferred to Rudi's office and the switchboard's only sending through calls from you." Dirk laughed in earnest now, laughed even harder when Giordino shushed him and beckoned to the sleeping angel. In frustration with her father he lifted her from the taller man's arms and settled her on his own shoulder, rocking and bouncing as one would a restless baby.

"Whelp, let's go face the music," Dirk said, his hand on the other man's shoulder.

The admiral hit the roof. There were comments about productivity, the fact that science really had no room for these types of shenanigans, about whether or not they thought he had commanded fleets or preschools, and about commitment. Dirk just regarded the man from cool eyes.

"If we can't work it out you can have my resignation immediately, no hard feelings."

Admiral Sandecker growled. Al just watched from the armchair where he still had custody of the little girl.

"I thought you were ready to come back to work? We have projects underway."

"I am and I know. She won't eat that much, Admiral. I'll sign a release-just get one drawn up by the lawyers. I'll relieve NUMA of any responsibility toward her safety and accept burden of same on myself. She can bunk with me. That won't be a problem."

"It's a hell of a precedent."

"That's your problem," Dirk shrugged. "Want some time to think it over?"

"I'll give you an answer by Friday," the red-haired man bristled.

"Thank you. I do appreciate your position. I'll understand if-"

The admiral slammed himself down into his desk chair. "Just what are you going to do if I tell you no?"

Dirk shrugged and squatted in front of Al, reaching out to touch her soft calf. "I don't know. Write a book. Sell cars. I'll think of something."

Al shook his head. Just then Meghan shuddered and opened her eyes with a yawn. She saw her father in front of her and frowned thoughtfully before turning to see who held her. A smile crept over her tear-stained face when she saw Al. He grinned back at her. "The admiral's here, too, sweetheart. You're at Daddy's work." She turned and raised her eyebrows at the admiral, then sat up straighter on Al's lap.

Pitt smiled proudly. The freedom of expression in those responses were huge steps from where she'd been-afraid to show positive emotion and afraid to show negative emotion.

"Get back to work," Sandecker growled.

Pitt held out his hand and she hopped down and took it. On her way out of the office she quickly turned her head and rapidly fisted and unfisted her hands in the admiral's direction. He waved back to her.

"Round one goes to Daddy," Pitt announced at the elevator. "How about dinner out to celebrate?"

Al was quick to acquiesce. Pitt's nose for fine dining had never steered him wrong. Rudi was happy to join them as well upon hearing the invitation.

Both men were again accepting Pitt's dinner invitation two nights later-this time at Pitt's place. Dirk had come home and showered and was standing over the stove when both arrived within seconds of each other. Rudi had brought Meghan flowers-big blooms with unpronounceable names in every shade from milky white to pinks and oranges to lavenders and deepest purple. She had taken them with delight and run to show Pitt. Now she was arranging and rearranging them in a series of tall bar glasses, Pitt being short on vases.

His hair was still wet from the bath as he stirred the pot on the stove. Al and Rudi were on the couch near Meg examining maps and charts and graphs for the thousandth time. Pitt opened the oven to check on the roasted vegetables and was greeted with fragrant steam. Meghan thought so, too. She hopped up and came into the kitchen, hovering in the open doorway.

"Come 'ere," Pitt beckoned. She ran over to him and he put her on his hip. Carrying her with him, he reclaimed fettuccine from the colander in the sink and stirred it into the simmering white sauce. He lifted the wooden spoon from the alfredo sauce he was finishing and blew on its offerings. When Meghan took the mouthful her face was rapt. Her lips closed together firmly and she swallowed almost reverently. Pitt had watched her and, pleased that she liked it so much, quickly reached for his glass to wash down the tears closing his throat. His three-year-old was going to fend for herself. She reached for the spoon he'd put back in the pot.

"No!" he shouted, spinning so that she lost her grip on it. The spoon clattered to the floor. He shook his head seriously at her. "Hot, baby," he told her firmly.

She reached out and grabbed his shirt, jerking him a little.

"I'll get you more, let me get this cleaned up." He put her down. Another milestone. He hadn't meant to raise his voice. It upset her-usually. This time she'd just gotten back in his face-in her own way. Now she ran for another spoon as he bent to wipe up the alfredo sauce decorating the front of the stove and the floor. It had gotten his pants and shoe as well, but he didn't rate that as important.

She was on tiptoe trying to reach the pot when he straightened.

"Hang on," he told her.

She stamped her foot. That one was his mother's fault. He'd have to call and thank her afterwhile. In the meantime he scooped up the child and reached for a bowl.

She leaned closer to the gooey pasta as he scooped some from the pot with her spoon. The steaks hadn't even been started yet, but no one would mind if she ate early. She kicked her legs against him.

"Let it cool a second," he told her. He indulged and blew on another spoonful in the meantime. She swallowed this one quickly and then pointed for more. He laughed and got another scoop from the pot. Steam curled around them as he blew on it as well.

"Mmm!" she growled, rocking against him restlessly.

He nearly dropped the spoon. His face was a mix of wonder and joy and tears as he looked her in the eye and nodded. "Mmm?" he choked out.

"Mmm!" she said again. He gave her the bite of pasta. Now she smiled at him.

"Mmm," he urged. He loved the sound of her voice. He'd never heard it before. She nodded at him.

"Hey, guys?" he called out, his voice cracking.

Rudi came in first, Al right behind him. She'd downed another spoonful by then. Pitt took the bowl from the counter and offered her a spoon.

"Mmm?" he asked her.

She nodded and took another mouthful. When a noodle slid down her chin she trapped it with her palm and gave him a big grin.

"Mmm," she told him.

He was sobbing now as his friends clapped him and her on the back.

"Is it good?" Al asked her. She nodded and offered him a spoonful, which he accepted.

"Mmm," she told Uncle Al.

Rudi had the presence of mind, through his own blurred eyes, to turn off the range and rescue the vegetables from the oven. Then he returned his attention to what was truly important.

"Call your mom," he ordered Dirk, reaching to take the bowl. He set it on the table and scooped Meghan onto his lap as Pitt set her down. He was back seconds later with the phone and the camcorder.

Sandecker's approval for Meghan to join the expedition was the beginning of a lifetime for the girl. She'd never be one for school buses and playdates. Instead she learned to speak in terms of oceanography. When her home school curriculum posed a conundrum for Pitt she had at her disposal a wide range of specialists in several fields of expertise to whom she could turn. When his work occasioned to take him where she couldn't follow her grandparents were happy to step in. Even the Gunns and Yokums hosted her once in a while. All that would be years in the future though. Until she was six her father was only out of sight for a few hours at a time. Even then she could hear him if he were on a submersible and monitored his progress if he was diving without her. She'd gotten her first dive suit just shy of her fourth birthday. By five she was writing complete sentences and speaking with more maturity than the majority of her peers. By her teen years she was a welcome addition to the crew of any project in her own right. At fifteen she challenged the graduation exam and by sixteen she was on NUMA's payroll, taking correspondence courses toward her first degree.

When people met her in her later teen years they were amazed only by her grace and knowledge. She won over most new people with her quick wit and sarcastic humor. If they thought her remarkable they had no idea. None would ever guess how much ground she'd made up and how her life had changed in those early years. And if they thought Pitt's reaction a bit too sentimental when she would tell him that an alfredo sauce she'd had out wasn't nearly as good as his-well, that was too damn bad. They hadn't been in that kitchen when she'd found her voice.


End file.
